


Whispers in the Dark

by Canyousensethesarcasm



Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: Character Death, F/M, Sad, Whispers, idk crying, pretty self explanatory, shrugs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-07
Updated: 2016-12-07
Packaged: 2018-09-07 01:15:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8777323
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Canyousensethesarcasm/pseuds/Canyousensethesarcasm
Summary: Tis a fic of woe, so read at your own risk. (Character death)





	

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by “One Last Dance” by Us the Duo. You should listen to it, but there’s no guarantee you won’t cry.

She used to love the sound of whispers. The quiet stillness and the rattling breath. The way the words vibrated the air like an enrapturing song. A prisoner escaping through the wind. She liked the way her mouth moved. A graceful dance along letters and syllables, a pattern of delicate words. Fragile things that left the soul yearning for a taste of exquisite melodies.  

She used to like the way her hushed voice sounded in the dark. A secret left to occupy an unapproachable void, a hole that would never be filled. It was the challenge that intrigued her. It was the echoes that awoke her senses, vowing that it was possible to destroy the booming silence by the lull of her words.

She learned to love the quietness of others, the soft “I love you” between corridors, the smooth caress of twilight and hands, hands grasping the other’s as if the connection was impossible to sever. She learned to appreciate the murmur of fire. A fire so hot it would have burned her, if not for the fact that she called the heat her lover.

But it was the whispers that made her knees curl up to her face, that made her a bundle of nerves and a collection of butterflies. It was the delicate twinkling that tangled her fingers together, like knots that would never unravel. It was the soft voices that made a fist clamp down on her throat, her insides becoming a mosh pit of bitterness and decay.

Because it was the whispers that told her a truth. A truth she would rather cut into tiny pieces than hear uttered from a passerby’s lips. _He wasn’t going to make it through the night._ He wasn’t going to hear the ringing of laughter in the sun, he wasn’t going to feel the cool touch of wind along his face, he wasn’t going to sense the warmth radiating from their encircled arms. He wasn’t going to live.

She had sensed the tides turning, the shift in the air, the light getting dimmer with every breath that pulled out of her. She felt the Earth move beneath her feet as if she were standing on a thin line between two spaces. As if the sun and moon had broken its glowing bond. She had known something was off, something was terribly wrong. The knot in her chest gave way.

The velvet tears fell from her eyes, covering her in a blanket of sorrow, to warm her from the cold sinking in the pit of her stomach. Her limbs frozen to the ground beneath her feet. Her heart numb.

And when the decibels of immeasurable silence became too much for her to bare, her soul cried out in rejection. Refusing the belief that after the tribulations, after the battles and bloodshed, after all the seconds wasted in the span of infinity, she was going to lose her heart.  

She argued with the bright lights on the ceiling, that it was impossible. Cassian couldn’t be dying. He was the strongest person she knew. Strong in heart, wit, and brains. Resilient and brilliant and brash. The universe had made a mistake, it did not need him. She needed him.

But arguing with the universe was like telling the rain to stop in the middle of a hurricane. _That_ was impossible.

The healers let her see him, see his shallow breaths and his furrowed brows. Let her hear the sharp coughs causing him pain. Nesta cringed at the rough gasp escaping his lips. The fist holding her heart squeezed, tightening until she nearly choked and tipped over.

“Nesta.” He whispered. _Nesta._ She filed away the sound of his voice, the shape of his mouth, the airy reverberation, the softness of his eyes though pain filled them, the love she saw around every corner. She stored it in the span of her memories. She would not forget the warmth of the sun.

“Shhh.” She whispered as she held his head to her chest. Her body rocking back and forth to a lullaby created by the moon. “It’s going to be okay. It’s all going to be okay.”

Even the silence didn’t believe her lies.

**Author's Note:**

> Next time, next time, next time, it will be happy, I swear. One of these days that’s going to be true. You just wait and see. As always, tell me what you think, I like to hear your opinions and emotional response.


End file.
